


So Sure

by Sneakyfox55



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Just to make it clear, Mental Health Issues, Papyrus (Undertale) Knows More Than He Lets On, Papyrus Is Trying, Papyrus is a Good Brother, Pre-Canon, Protective Papyrus (Undertale), Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Self-Esteem Issues, Sort of? - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Worried Papyrus (Undertale), Younger Brother Papyrus (Undertale), also warning for slight headcanons haha, but it's probably greatly exaggerated, by the way, definitely not beta read lol, for a while, venting, very little good things happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneakyfox55/pseuds/Sneakyfox55
Summary: It was just a lack of motivation. Tiredness, he'd say. No energy.Papyrus knew better.He just didn't know how to help.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus & Undyne (Undertale)
Comments: 114
Kudos: 119





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse to post this other than i listened to this song and it made me sad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIWIGqNW6E0
> 
> anyhow enjoy ;-;
> 
> (also to anybody who's told me to rest, i really really appreciate it and thank you so much, after this i swear i'll try to take your advice lol--)

On a particularly cold Snowdin day, Sans decided he didn't feel like getting out of bed.

It was something he'd never done before. He'd always found a reason to get up, usually--that reason mainly consisting of Papyrus. Sometimes the idea of making progress on something, or being productive.

But recently, the idea of doing anything was starting to get more and more unappealing to him. Even the very prospect of putting effort, especially into work, was draining, somehow.

He figured he knew why.

And it was all the more reason to get up; make use out of himself, so his brother wouldn't worry.

It was hard, telling himself that, though.

He'd probably screw up.

Screw up like he always did.

...

So maybe he should just lie down here a few more minutes. He'd work up the courage to get up, eventually.

Right now, he was just too tired.

A few minutes turned into several long ones. The comfort of his bed was just much too tempting--the immobility of his limbs, the immobility of his own ~~destructive~~ mind too good to pass up. It was better lying there. He didn't have to worry about anything. About disappointing his brother.

...Ah, but.

That wasn't entirely true. He'd always disappoint him, no matter what.

And such was proven when said brother came knocking on his door.

"BROTHER! YOU'VE BEEN SLEEPING FOR HOURS, IT'S ALMOST PAST NOON!!"

He wanted to sleep longer, but alas. Upon getting no response Papyrus turned the knob and threw open the door.

"SANS!" he barked. "I'M..."

He trailed off, taking in the way his older brother hardly moved at the interruption.

"...SANS?"

The bedridden skeleton let out a sigh, rubbing at his skull. "i'll be down in a minute, Pap." A few minutes, probably.

"WHY NOT NOW?" inquired Papyrus.

He shrugged, scrubbing at his face again, a bit more roughly this time. "long process," he supplied drowsily.

"FOR WHAT?"

"moving."

The other skeleton snorted disbelievingly, before huffing out an indignant, "FINE! BUT YOU BETTER BE DOWN SOON, OTHERWISE YOUR FOOD WILL GET COLD!"

"yeah, yeah."

He waved him halfheartedly out the door, then flopped back down into bed.

If cold food was the only negative to sleeping in, he'd sleep the rest of the day.

...Or the rest of the week.

Or month.

Or...

...

But then Papyrus would be worried by that point.

So Sans waited another minute or so, before hauling himself out of the security of his blankets and dragging himself downstairs.

* * *

After that, Sans was mostly fine, for the rest of that day. Mainly because he'd more or less forced himself to suck it up, indulge in whatever Papyrus was doing at the time. He normally didn't have to.

But he'd be fine.

This was only a one time thing, right? Just a small glitch.

He'd be fine.

He was sure of it.


	2. it's alright, it's okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yaya it's chapter two
> 
> also i kind of just wrote it on a whim, half-reflecting previous random feelings and/or behavior i've showed that i thought would fit, sorry if it's weird i'm personally weird like that--

The second time it happened, Sans really, really didn't know how to deal with it. It felt like... Like a cloud hanging over his him, that just wouldn't go away. It bit at him incessantly, refusing to let him rest, just for a moment. Any thought, at least any _positive_ thought he attempted to consider, was torn apart by the cloud in his head.

He felt nothing. But at the same time, it was painful, in a way. Emptiness that had a faint poisonous tang to it.

He couldn't move. He couldn't get himself to do anything. Anything he'd try to do, he'd just screw up, somehow--even if it was just twitching a finger.

He was so, so tired.

And he didn't know why.

He didn't _have_ an explanation for this. He kept telling himself it'd go away. It was nothing. He really should ignore it. It's really, truly nothing.

...It _wasn't_ nothing.

But he didn't know what to do.

There were instances before, of this. Just small things. A comment got to him a bit more than it should have--maybe he felt more drowsy than usual. Mentally drowsy, but still.

It never lasted long.

In a few minutes, he'd be alright. Papyrus would unknowingly have cheered him up, or Sans himself would think up something else to focus on.

This time, he couldn't focus on anything else.

Just his exhaustion. Just the emptiness.

Just that, no matter what, he shouldn't screw things up.

He shouldn't get out of bed.

He shouldn't do _anything_.

...

So he didn't.

Sans decided to lie there, for however long he could,

because the idea of doing much else was too painful.

* * *

Papyrus knew how to read his brother, despite what said brother probably thought. He could tell when he was sad, or angry. He wasn't happy often, but he feigned it, and Papyrus could see through that.

He never said anything about it, of course. Obviously Sans seemed to think he was getting away with... Whatever it was he was getting away with. So Papyrus decided it best not to ruin that, for whatever reason. Maybe because, deep down, he knew saying something would just make him upset. Why he'd be upset, well...

Papyrus had somewhat of an idea.

But he had to test it, still.

...Speaking of which.

Sans wasn't down for breakfast.

Might as well use that as an excuse.

* * *

"BROTHER?"

Sans didn't even bother to look at him. His skull felt like a boulder, weighed down on his pillow, completely immobile.

"BREAKFAST IS READY. I ALREADY PUT YOUR PLATE OUT."

Of course he did.

"IT'S... IF YOU DON'T EAT IT SOON, IT WILL GET COLD."

Sans knew that. Sans knew if he stayed here, he'd mess that up too.

He'd always mess things up.

And what did it matter?

He barely registered the footsteps approaching his bed, pointedly facing away, so he wouldn't have to look at his brother and feel guilty. ~~He already did.~~

Delicately, gently, something touched his shoulder.

"SANS, THIS REALLY ISN'T HEALTHY," Papyrus stated, though a bit softer. Sans wondered if he could tell something was wrong. ~~Why wouldn't he?~~

Nothing Sans ever did was healthy, anyway. Again, what did it matter?

"Sans. Please look at me."

His voice dropped, to a degree Sans had never heard before. It ~~scared~~ surprised him enough to turn around, just a bit, to meet his gaze.

"I want you to come down and eat with me," was Papyrus's response to that, calm. "It will do you some good."

"no," Sans said before he could stop himself.

His younger brother's entire expression seemed to furrow.

Sans himself didn't know what he'd said no to, really. So he just turned away again, unable to figure it out. "i'll eat later," he at last mumbled out, his own voice cracking in his throat.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with Papyrus; and why should it?

"I want you to eat now. No excuses."

Sans shook his head halfheartedly. "not hungry."

"I don't believe you," he stated matter-of-factly, though not unkind. For some reason, hearing that made everything worse for the other skeleton. For some reason, the void in his sockets filled with barely restrained tears.

He didn't want to disappoint his brother.

He didn't.

But he didn't know what else to do, either.

He really wanted everything to end.

If all of this would just end, things would be better.

If he...

That last malformed thought filled him with a sudden, alarming glee--though to his credit he managed to keep it hidden to himself and away from showing Papyrus. Still he shook, a mixture of emotions flooding him.

Somewhat alarmed, Papyrus reached forward for him, likely to comfort him, in some way. But Sans instinctively pushed him back, then rolled over to face him fully.

"it's fine," he said haltingly, "'m okay, Pap. see?"

~~Maybe, he would be, if that previous idea went anywhere.~~

It hurt so, so bad, to talk and contradict his mind, but Sans persisted, scrubbing at his eyesockets, pretending to just wipe sleep away. "i-i'm okay." He forced a grin, hoping it didn't seem too manic in his haste. "promise."

Papyrus scrutinized him for a moment, something in his expression that alarmingly, for once, Sans couldn't read. Then the younger huffed out a sigh, replacing his worry with a slight scowl. "WELL, EVEN SO," Sans almost sagged in relief, "COME DOWN IN A FEW MINUTES, ALRIGHT? I STILL WANT YOU TO EAT."

With that he stood up and started making his way to the door, seemingly not interested in getting a confirmation about attending breakfast out of his brother...

And, because of such, a bit of confusion (and unease) settled in Sans's gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was easy :)) i bet Papyrus believes him, 100% :)))


	3. sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TWs: implied suicidal/depressive depressive thoughts and references to self-hatred.)
> 
> so this was pretty much wholly inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53vw9miqxAk), it's honestly such a bop and i definitely recommend it :d

It'd come sporadically.

Sometimes, he'd be fine.

Sometimes, he'd be a bit more tired than normal, and intrusive with his thoughts, but not terrible.

And sometimes, Sans wondered what it was like to be forgotten.

Sometimes, he'd shortcut himself to Waterfall, and look over the endless void, wondering if it was anything like the true Void.

Sometimes, he'd consider joining h̷̡̓į̵̊m̵̖͛.

And now he knew why.

...And he accepted it.

He wasn't mad at himself, or frustrated, or even sad that despite having his whole life ahead of him, this mindset had found its way to him anyway.

He was just... Disappointed, in a way.

Most of all,

he was empty.

* * *

Her words still rang in Papyrus's head, no matter what he did. No matter what he tried to think about, or forcefully rip himself away to do, it'd still come back, taunting him, almost:

_Sans isn't... Normal._

_Monsters like him are really rare, but... E-every once in a while,_ Alphys had said, _there can be... S-something goes wrong, in a monster's development, and... Th-their HP doesn't--it doesn't, work, like it should?_

Papyrus sat at the table now, resisting the urge still to hang his head, or even put it in his hands. His head felt heavy; but he refused.

_'C-cause, um... Normally, HP fluctuates, in a way. As a monster grows so does their HP, i-if that makes sense--because our HP is also tied closely to our emotions, I guess? But it's always usually, s-super high--it depends on the monster, but still._

_With Sans, though, he... He only has one HP._

Papyrus knew that.

He'd known that, for a while now.

But...

 _A-and... Because it's so closely tied with... Emotions... I-it can affect a monster's m-mental state, sometimes._ _It's similar to how humans sometimes don't, um... They don't have enough... Chemicals, or whatever, in their brain...?_

_So Sans is..._

It took a while, for Sans to actually have it catch up to him.

It wasn't brought on by anything. That's what Alphys claimed, anyway.

It wasn't anybody's fault.

...And yet.

Yet,

Papyrus couldn't help the guilt that stung at him.

He should have done something.

He should have...

No.

No, he could still do something. Sans was still _here_ , that was all Papyrus needed.

He'd make this right. He'd help his brother.

...

Sans had done the same for him, after all.

* * *

Maybe it'd be better this way.

Maybe if he slept long enough, it'd be fine.

Maybe if he just didn't move at all, things would be better.

Maybe...

But then, he remembered.

Who would take care of his brother?

It was a silly though, really; Sans doubted there was anything _he_ could do that would make up for everything, anything that would truly show how much Papyrus meant in this life.

...But nobody else would know.

Nobody else would quite understand. 

At least he understood that his brother deserved more than him.

A knock jolted him back to reality, and he heard said brother's voice come through the door; but it only cemented the thought further.

He...

Would stay, for now.

Just today.

Just tomorrow, maybe.

If he forced himself to be fine, maybe that'd be the key to truly being fine.

After all, sometimes he'd have days he'd do better; there was nothing to worry about.

He'd be fine.

...

But, if not,

he could still _try_ to be for Papyrus.

That was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (just as a side note since i haven't really elaborated on this: please don't take Sans's mentality here seriously. what he's thinking here is very unhealthy--you shouldn't force yourself to be happy for anyone, even yourself, and please don't consider taking the "easy" way out either; you're important and if you deal with these thoughts yourself, don't be afraid to get help. i know it's easy for me to say that, and this might not mean much coming from a random person on the internet but i hope it can help at least some. stay alive and stay healthy!)


	4. of flowers and foreboding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was listening to sad music and it inspired me to write more and vent out some emotions a bit so have this mess

Sans had come to learn, eventually, that nothing was ever what it truly seemed in his mind.

...Well, to paint this conclusion in a more _specific_ light, in his case: he realized he'd make something out of nothing. He worried too much. Anything, and everything he ever worried about, everything he thought might turn to ruin--it never truly mattered in the end.

Most would say coming to a conclusion like this would be a good thing.

But for Sans,

it just made him realize how messed up he really was.

It didn't help knowing whatever he thought would be proven false. It didn't help to know he'd be wrong. And he wished for otherwise, quite honestly. He wished he _could_ judge himself, truly, negatively _and_ positively. An in-between, a balance of sorts, where he could see and convince himself he was neither perfect nor entirely the useless, despicable creature he nursed the idea of being.

He wanted anything but than to feel the way he felt.

He wanted to be normal.

...

He wanted to _try_ to be normal.

But he knew he couldn't be.

He'd never see himself in the same light. Not like Papyrus did. Not like Alphys did, once.

He knew all of this,

and yet,

he couldn't give up just yet.

He'd decided to go to Waterfall, but for a different reason than last time--well, sort of. He didn't want to dwell on much. He couldn't afford to. He wanted to clear his head, even if just a little.

Sans had never much cared for the area before, to be truthful. It rained too much. The dampness stuck to his bones and clothes like you wouldn't believe.

It was too... Sad there.

He could never truly figure out why. It just was; to him, anyway.

But, the more time he spent here...

He decided he might like it. Just a little.

The Echo Flowers didn't seem as mind-intruding as they once had before. The air smelled sweet, which he hadn't even noticed before. The water, though probably magical and artificial, was calming to watch. He liked looking up at the stones on the ceiling--especially in the Wishing Room. That was somewhere he liked to go, just to gather his thoughts.

And there he was now, listening to the the flowers repeat their tuneless song of hopes and dreams:

_One day, I want to climb out of this mountain we're all buried under..._

_I want to feel real rain! I bet it's even better than Waterfall..._

_I wish I can take my family to the surface, and all of my friends too. They'd really like it..._

Sans remembered, long ago, that he himself had wished to see the real stars some day.

Maybe he would.

Maybe--maybe even as he sat here on the cold stone floor, his legs huddled close to his chest--there was still Hope for him. Somewhere. Somehow.

He wanted to believe that. He really, truly did.

...

And for now, he would.

Because thinking back on everything--wanting to see the surface, the sun, the stars--it made him long for something other than this. Even more so than before.

Sans wanted to live out his childhood dreams, even now. It felt silly, but...

It was bittersweet.

Familiar.

Nostalgic.

...Happy.

He was happy, back then.

So maybe...

Maybe, if he truly believed, and wished with all his soul, he could see the stars, like he wanted to. He could take Papyrus with him, and things would be okay. They'd be free.

He'd be free.

He'd see the stars.

He'd be happy.

One day.

* * *

He'd seen that skeleton in Waterfall before. He came here more often than he usually did, apparently. And to this room, of all places.

Naturally, today was no different.

And today...

Flowey was curious. A tad more so than usual; which was a feat, really!

Curious enough to spy on said skeleton, all the way home, all the way back to the other skeleton who asked him where he'd been--a brother, maybe?

He should get to know them, he thought to himself. Learn their names, their interests, everything about them.

Maybe, he could be friends with them.

That sounded fun.

...

Oh, no no no, it didn't _sound_ fun.

It _would_ be fun; _so_ much fun,

and Flowey couldn't _wait_ to get started!


	5. I Will Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TWs: toxic thoughts, implied suicidal thoughts and self-harm*
> 
> is this chapter just a bunch of senseless writing-rambling (if that's a thing)?
> 
> the answer is yes
> 
> w o o
> 
> ...also i'm pretty sure it's obvious what song this chapter is inspired by lmbo--

Papyrus wasn't very experienced at cooking yet. He knew that.

He knew there were a lot of things he didn't know. Maybe important things. Things he _should_ know.

He knew he wasn't perfect, and that Sans wasn't perfect, but...

Sans meant more to him than _anything_.

He was scared when Sans wouldn't tell him things that troubled him. He was scared, that day that Sans left and seemingly disappeared without a word and scared the _life_ out of his younger brother, only to come back a half an hour later, seemingly fine. _Almost_ fine, at least--his soul didn't ache as much anymore, Papyrus felt. It seemed _almost_ calmed of its previous grievances.

But Papyrus couldn't _accept_ it. Not like his brother surely wanted him to.

It still felt wrong.

And the next day Sans was sad and empty again--he'd come down for breakfast, but what then, Papyrus wondered? He went back up to his room, that was what. Back to his room, alone, quiet, with only his thoughts.

And his thoughts were _destructive_.

_YOU THINK I DON'T **KNOW**? _ Papyrus wanted to ask, just a tad louder than normal. Just a tad frustrated at him, for what he was doing to himself. _YOU THINK I CAN'T HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS SOMETIMES? YOU THINK I CAN'T **FEEL THEM**?_ _!_

Granted, it was true, that he didn't feel _all_ of them--but he _knew_. He knew Sans was lying to himself, that he'd be okay sometimes but he was alone in his thoughts, and he needed to talk to someone but _he wouldn't tell him anything_.

He didn't understand, he wasn't sure he ever would entirely but--why couldn't Sans let him _try_?

Why...

...

...

No.

He knew why.

And that's why he decided to confront him about it.

* * *

Papyrus was convinced something was wrong with him, apparently.

...Which wasn't _far_ from the truth, but...

For all the effort Sans was trying to put in to get out of bed every day, he didn't have it in himself to actually tell his brother about such.

He knew that Papyrus knew something was off--there was no escaping that, even if he tried. No matter what he did he'd end up being weak and letting things out, somehow; make things seem worse than they were.

Papyrus shouldn't have to worry, he reasoned, it wasn't like he actually planned to _do_ anything. It wasn't like he felt so awful and sorry for himself that he'd eradicate his existence just to satisfy his own misgivings, and make Papyrus's life a living Hell all the more.

...Okay, that...

Might not have been the _healthiest_ thought, but.

It was still... Fine.

He still wanted to be here. It didn't matter--nothing else mattered. He'd continue.

And Papyrus... Didn't need to really know the details.

~~He _couldn't_ tell him. _Never_. He should _never_ cause his brother pain, especially for his own gain.~~

He didn't _have to_. It was just a funk. Sans could get over it.

He _would._

_Without_ anyone's help.

_It was **his** burden to bear, ONLY--_

A knock interrupted his inner rambling.

"Sans," his brother called through the door.

...His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sans mentally kicked himself into gear and rose to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyesockets. "come in," he called back, only a bit raspy. He didn't move much more than that, too tired, even as the door opened and in stepped Papyrus.

How many times had things played out similar to this: twice? Thrice?

More times? More that Sans couldn't remember?

...

It was different this time, though.

Papyrus was different.

His own eyes scanned his brother's form, cautious, obviously concerned. His soul was loud enough in its worries that Sans could hear it, almost desperate. Like it was asking something of him.

He was asking something of him. 

"i already ate," the older of the two pointed out, as though it'd be any consolation for his younger brother.

It wasn't, obviously. And he replied, softly, "I know. I..."

_Here it comes._

"...I have... A question. A different one."

_There._

But what was it?

Maybe it was because his mind was too foggy, or that Papyrus's soul was too secretive about _this_ in particular, but--Sans didn't know what he could possibly be asking here.

He just didn't want to hear it.

He just didn't want to _be_ here.

"Why did you leave yesterday?" Papyrus questioned. "W-where did you go?"

Sans set his jaw, tightly. "nowhere," was his ready reply.

Just as ready, "It can't be nowhere, Sans."

He knew that.

"...waterfall."

"Why?"

"to think," responded Sans flatly.

And he could tell, simply by the look in Papyrus's gaze, what his next inquiry was:

"What did you need to think about?"

He didn't _want_ to say what. Couldn't Papyrus see that?

He'd gotten an answer from him already, wasn't that _enough_ for him?

Was _anything_ enough for--

His soul nearly _stuttered_.

He gripped his hands together tightly, so tightly it hurt, a distant part of him hoping he'd crush his bones into dust.

_i'm sorry i'm **sorry** , _he tried to say in his mind, trying to make up for before, but it got tangled with other thoughts.

And yet he just sat there, stone-faced, avoiding Papyrus's eyes. Blank in his own expression, even as his brother outwardly showed concern for his wellbeing.

Why couldn't he give him something more than the pathetic mess he was?

Why couldn't he give him a straight answer? Why couldn't he give him what he wanted?

"Brother," his voice came gently, as though he sensed the rising, faraway panic in him.

He probably did sense it.

~~Why couldn't Sans be a good brother, for _once_ in his _damn life_?~~

~~Why did he treat him like this, like he was--~~

No no, no, he was doing better, he went to Waterfall and realized he still wanted to _stay_ , to enjoy the Surface and other things, not just Papyrus, he didn't have to say _anything_ , he just needed to _pretend_ , continue pretending. It'd _work out_. He'd been _fine_ yesterday, _he'd_ _always be fine from now on_.

"n... nothing's wrong, Pap," he said, tone cold, unwavering despite his inner turmoil, despite the horror he truly felt. "'m doing better, see? 'm fine. i told you that, didn't i?"

_Stop treating him like an idiot!_ something screamed at him, and Sans flinched, even harder when Papyrus stepped ever so closer to the bed.

"i thought about it, i needed... i needed to," he went on calmly, "and i'm fine now. i will be, anyways. i still... i still got hope for things, 's just..."

He let himself trail off, as he felt his brother's weight on the bed.

"Please. Stop lying, Sans, I _know_ that's not true."

"it is."

"No."

"it _is_ , i'm--i don't _need_ your help, so just--"

"You _do_. You don't have to do this alone, Sans."

Silence met him.

"...Brother, please. I..."

Nothing.

"Sans, _please_ , just... Tell me what's wrong. Tell me--" His breath hitched. "...Let me help you. _Please_."

"...there's nothing to help."

It hurt.

Gods, did it hurt.

And his soul stuttered for real, this time, as Papyrus's expression fell into nothing short of despair.

Still...

Still, even as his brother wrapped him in his arms, even as he pulled him tight against him and practically cradled him to his chest,

Sans said nothing.

There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to do.

For a moment, he felt nothing.

He just hugged him back, his mind a different place far, far away.

* * *

_Please stop lying to yourself. Please, just listen to me. Please don't ignore me._

_Please stop hurting yourself like_ _this_.

But he couldn't find it in himself to say any of those things aloud.

He reserved them for his soul instead, trying to reassure Sans's silently, trying to let him know.

He kept repeating it like a mantra.

_Please. Don't make yourself go through this alone. Please, Brother._

_I love you._

He didn't know what else to do. He didn't know how to begin to help him further than this--he had no idea how to make his brother feel better.

He didn't know how to _fix_ this. 

...

...

But.

He would try, anyway.

No matter what.

For him, he'd try anything.

He'd try to fix things, as best he could. Even if his brother didn't want him to. Even if it was hard.

_Please, just..._

He hugged him tighter, nuzzling his skull against his shoulder like a scared babybones. Hoping it'd be enough, if just for now.

Hoping for better things for him.

_Don't give up on me, Brother,_ Papyrus prayed.

Because he wouldn't give up on him.

_Never_.


	6. (Won't) Fail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the titles are getting more incoherent hhh--)
> 
> literally any time this story is updated it's usually because i'm dealing with something myself and have to vent in some way, um,
> 
> sorry pfft,
> 
> hopefully it won't be like that again next chapter but no promises--

Papyrus couldn't stop fidgeting, even when he finally walked up to the house. It was still rather early in the morning but he'd made sure to show up a little later than last time—he'd quickly learned his newly-appointed mentor tended to sleep in _really_ late. So late that it was already almost six in the morning, and Papyrus had things to do when he got back, _so_ many things to do; and he could definitely come back later in the day, knowing for sure she wouldn't be asleep, but...

He wanted to... Get a head start on the day, with her help? There was so much left for her to teach him--he'd only _just_ been told the amount of hot sauce you should put in an omelet as opposed to French toast. He wanted to see if this would be the day she had time to train him! He wanted...

...He...

He knew he was lying to himself.

He wasn't even sure if she wanted to be _friends_ , quite yet. Their relationship might have been strictly business but...

She'd... Listen, at least. Wouldn't she?

He had no one else to talk to.

~~He didn't have many~~ None of his friends had much time to talk with him, or they didn't want to always be bothered. And he couldn't just take this directly to _him_. He'd deflect, like he always did. He'd deny _everything_. Make it harder for both of them.

~~And how could he help him then, if he refused it anyway...?~~

Papyrus didn't know what else to do.

So he tried to get himself to stop fidgeting. And he knocked his gloved knuckles against the door.

A few seconds went by, then a moment, until the door parted, and Undyne blinked at him through the dimness, dressed in a robe and her hand latched onto a mug.

"...Papyrus," she addressed, just a _bit_ groggy and confused, and it was very much an improvement since the first time they'd met. It seemed she had gotten used to him. "Here for, uh... Training already?"

The skeleton thought about his response for a moment.

Should he get straight to the point? Would she be more ~~accepting~~ interested if they did their lesson first?

"Papyrus, is something wrong?" She gave him a calculating look to emphasize, and with those things combined to increase his unease, he couldn't keep it in.

So he asked, "CAN WE TALK?"

Somehow, her sharptoothed frown deepened even more so. Her forehead creased, adding to the impression she was scowling, or annoyed, but...

Her eyes betrayed that and told the truth, staring through him with a gentle sort of scrutinizing, understanding. "...Yeah," she said, finally.

She stepped back.

And she gave him just the barest hint of a smile, indirectly giving him the invitation. "Come on in," she added.

"Sooo," drawled Undyne, sliding into the chair across from him at the table. "What's up?"

Papyrus contemplated his own tea as she sipped hers, searching for how to begin explaining his dilemma. "IT'S... MY BROTHER," he decided on at last.

He heard Undyne set down her mug. "Oh, yeah. Think you've mentioned him before—Sans, was it?" He nodded and she hummed slightly, "What about him?"

Papyrus twiddled his thumbs.

"HE, UM... HE'S... HE ONLY HAS ONE HP."

"..."

He looked up, and... Stared at her.

She was _openly_ scowling now—more out of utter bewilderment, or shock, if he had to guess? Her pupils had turned to slits in her eyes, thin and small.

Eyeing him closely, she merely hissed out a, " _What_?"

"ONE?" he repeated inquiringly, half-intimidated by her stare and half-not. "JUST... ONE. I DON'T... KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN FURTHER THAN THAT, EXCEPT..." He trailed off, giving Undyne room to voice her disturbances:

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?! That's—" she swore under her breath, " _do you know how rare that is?_ How DANGEROUS?"

"YES I KNOW!" he shot back, just a bit too loudly; he quickly lowered his volume. "I _KNOW_. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. DR. ALPHYS GAVE ME SOME ADVICE BUT—WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? HOW CAN I HELP HIM, I—"

_How_?

How could he help him if he didn’t _know_ how to help? How was Sans going to get better if Papyrus didn’t know how to help him be better? He knew Sans couldn’t do it on his own, but...

He wasn’t going to give up— _never_ —but where could he even _start_? And what if—

...

What if he failed?

“WHAT IF I... _FAIL_ HIM, UNDYNE?”

He slouched slightly, just barely holding back the unwelcome liquid behind his eyesockets.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d last at this rate, but he _had_ to tell her, _had_ to find out what would...

“...WHAT IF—”

But she didn’t let him, cutting him off with a firm “No.”

And just briefly the skeleton stopped stumbling over his words, and looked back at her intently.

“...What?” he asked, voice a bit quieter than normal, now.

“I’m saying no,” Undyne clarified, “as in, _No, you’re not going to sit on your ass and ask questions of ‘what if.’_ ”

He blinked in contemplation; then confusion.

“What?” he repeated.

She sighed, fins drooping somewhat.

“Ugh. Sorry, that was...”

She shook her head quickly, as though to free her own head of various thoughts. “I’m not good at this whole... Feelings thing, I guess? I, uh. What I _mean_ to say is... You can’t—you can’t just focus on what _might_ happen, okay? You gotta stick it out, y’know—be there for him, regardless of what you think’ll happen. Don’t ask all those what ifs. That’s just going to drive you even _more_ insane.”

Still, Papyrus furrowed his brow-bones indecisively.

“But how do I—how do I prevent him from—...”

“You can’t.”

Papyrus’s soul nearly stuttered, but she continued:

“Not really, you can’t. If his soul is... If it’s really that bad, then...”

She trailed off, then started again, uncharacteristically somber.

“You don’t have to know anything. Just be there for him. ...And don’t force him to talk about any of it, either. He’ll talk if he’s ready. Just be there to listen if he does. That’s... All you can do.”

The skeleton seemed to settle.

Sort of.

"...And you're _not_ going to fail, Papyrus." 

She gave him a pointed stare for good measure, determined to prove him wrong.

He fidgeted.

“Okay.”

He paused, meeting her still-downcast gaze directly.

“...Was there someone you...?”

“No.”

Her tone was rather flat, just with that one word.

The skeleton visibly flinched, and the captain forced her sudden hostility back down. Her jaw worked, opening and closing, but nothing came out.

Until...

“...You... Still up for doing your lesson today?”

Papyrus studied her for a moment.

Then, he let out a small sigh, before breaking into a grin.

“SURE!!”

It must have been infectious, for soon, she was grinning too.

“SEE YOU TOMORROW, UNDYNE!!”

“See ya, Papyrus!” she yelled back at him from the doorway, him already gallivanting into the cavern outside. She’d seemed to gain most of her vigor during cooking, and Papyrus himself was cheered up a bit just from her brashness—honestly, he wished she’d be more open like that. She was at her best when doing something she enjoyed, whether it be sparring or burning a plate of food. That was when she _truly_ shone, he noticed. The rest of the time, she kept many things inside her; surely too much for one to carry alone.

...She reminded him of his brother, in a way.

...

Well! That was why he was here for the both of them!!

He’d help them both open up, eventually!

Things would okay again!

...

Maybe good, even.

And he’d make sure of it.

He wouldn’t fail.

~~He couldn’t.~~

After all,

he _was_ pretty gr— 

“Howdy!”

Papyrus jumped backwards, something yellow suddenly popping up in his vision, directly in front of him.

It giggled at him.

“ _Gosh_ , you should _really_ watch your step next time! You almost squished me, friend!”

Papyrus paused, eyesockets wide.

_FRIEND...?_

“OH, UM— I’M VERY, VERY SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO!!”

Innocently, he smiled down at the flower.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also yes, Undyne is a bit out-of-character--this is intentional :))


End file.
